


I Love Italian (And I Love You)

by lost_in_thyme_and_spacebars



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Fluff, Italian Food, M/M, Old Married Couple, Whales, k/s day, old married spirk, oms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_thyme_and_spacebars/pseuds/lost_in_thyme_and_spacebars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly 20 years after the conclusion of the events in Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Jim plans a surprise for Spock. Written for K/S day 2015</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Love Italian (And I Love You)

‘Jim, I do not see the logic in being unable to see where I’m going.’

‘If you knew where you were going, it would spoil the surprise.’

‘We have not left the academy grounds, so there are not that many choices for our destination.’

‘Hush, Spock. We’re almost there.’

Spock rolled his eyes, though whether it was noticeable through the blindfold he had no idea. He allowed himself to be led by the arm, taking comfort in the fact that at least the area was quiet at this time of night. It would have been a very strange sight for any passers-by. Jim did, however, have the reputation for being unpredictable – even by human standards.

‘Right, now close your eyes.’

His eyebrow raised in amusement. ‘Surely that is not necessary. I already cannot see.’

‘Yes, but I’m going to be taking the blindfold off soon.’

‘Why would you do that if you just want me to close my eyes?’

‘Spock, stop that’ Jim said, his tone betraying the amusement behind the command.

Suppressing a smile, Spock did as he was told. He loved being able to tease Jim this way – they may be getting old and grey, but they kept each other young in all the ways that mattered.

‘Aaaaaand we’re here. Are your eyes closed?’

‘Affirmative, Jim.’

‘Promise?’

‘Vulcans do not lie.’

‘But they can exaggerate. Can’t they, Mr Spock?’ 

He could practically hear Jim winking. ‘Perhaps,’ Spock conceded, ‘but I assure you that my eyes are completely closed.’

Spock felt Jim’s hands brush the back of his head as he untied the fabric that had obscured his sight for the last 10 minutes and 47 seconds. Then the fabric slipped away.

‘OK, you can open your eyes now.’

Spock did so slowly, savouring the anticipation, eyes adjusting to the soft moonlight.

His gaze fell upon the water, rippling and reflecting the stars in the sky. The Golden Gate Bridge stretched across it into the distance. The he saw movement under the surface of the water, and knew why he had been brought here. 

The humpback whale breached the surface, water flying off its body in sheets. It twisted in the air and returned to depths with a loud smack as the displaced water flew up in a cloud of small droplets – each one causing its own ripples across the channel of water. He let out his breath, unaware that he had been holding it, as he leant forward against the railings.

‘Can you believe that it’s been 20 years already?’ Jim asked, his voice breaking the spell that had been cast over them. Spock turned to look at him, noticing the tears falling down his husband’s face. Humans were strange creatures, he thought to himself as he brought one hand up to wipe the moisture away. They cried when they were happy and they cried when they were sad. 

Jim turned to face him, a soft smile on his features as he felt Spock’s hand caress his cheek. He moved his head slightly and pressed a kiss to Spock’s palm, then looked into his eyes. Anyone who believed that Vulcans had no emotions simply weren’t paying attention. The love and happiness were plain to see, even though Spock’s mouth remained unsmiling. There was a gentleness in his features that was not purely an effect of aging, and he was warmed to the core at the sight.

‘I have another surprise for you.’

‘You spoil me, Jim.’

‘Nonsense,’ he replied, as he bent to unpack the bag that had lain forgotten at their feet. He took out two containers, two plates and two sets of cutlery, as well as a worn looking but sturdy looking plaid picnic blanket. As the first container was opened, the scent of tomatoes and herbs filled the air. Jim took the lid off the second one, and began portioning out spaghetti with a level of concentration that he normally reserved for working on the bridge. ‘now please, sit down.’

Spock did so, marvelling at the care that had gone into the planning of this evening. ‘I made it myself,' Jim said, ‘so I hope you’ll enjoy it. I’ve made it a few times and it’s always turned out-‘

‘It looks delicious, Jim’ Spock replied, interrupting the flow of self-deprecating babble ‘and I do love Italian.’ 

A grin split Jim’s face as he handed over the plate. It did look good, he had to admit. They sat in comfortable silence as they ate, gazing out at the water. 

‘How did we get so lucky, Spock?’

Spock looked over at Jim, curious as to what brought this on. ‘I do not understand. To what are you referring to?’

‘I mean that after all we’ve been through, we’re still here. We’ve seen and done so much. We’ve got so much left to do, and I get to see and do it all with you. I lost you once, but you came back. I got a second chance. And then it was almost cut short by that damn whale probe. We managed to get those whales back here because of you, Spock. You and your guesses and your intuition brought us home safely despite the odds. If that isn’t luck then I don’t know what is. I had the luck to meet you.’

‘Jim…’

He looked up as Spock put down his plate and held out his hand. He placed his food beside him and touched his fingers to Spock’s in a kiss, as they had done many times before. 

‘In that case, t’hy’la, I am inclined to believe in luck as well. Human as it may seem.’

Jim looked up, stunned, and intertwined his fingers with Spock’s. They were softer and frailer than they had been, but they were just as dear to him as when they had been young, as was the person they belonged to. He looked into the lined face of his husband and smiled, eyes crinkling as they lit up. ‘Why, Mr Spock. I do believe that counts as a miracle.’


End file.
